


Always Gold

by DarkSkiesIlluminatedByFallenAngels



Category: Sherlock (BBC), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bullied Sherlock, Bullying, High School, Implied Slash, Johnlock - Freeform, Sherlock - Freeform, Sherlock AU, Teenage Sherlock, Teenlock, Triggers, teenage John, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 12:15:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2811650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkSkiesIlluminatedByFallenAngels/pseuds/DarkSkiesIlluminatedByFallenAngels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is John's mentor at their high school. And though they had rocky start they slowly grew to become friends who cared for each other very much. So you could hardly imagine what John's reaction must've been like when sherlock came in for one of their session bruised and beaten, by someone john actually knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always Gold

**Author's Note:**

> *trigger warning for bullying and homophobic slurs (which I most definitely don't support) are used*

He was late. He was never late, if anything it was John who was usually late, never Sherlock.

Okay no that’s actually an understatement. When John was first assigned to Sherlock for the tutoring program they had after school in their high school because of his bellow average grades Sherlock was almost always late, that is if he even showed up on some days.

It wasn’t until one of the host teachers found out Sherlock was skipping and was threatened with detention did he start coming in a little less late. Sherlock was always in a constant state of boredom. It was obvious he didn’t want to partake in the sessions; he always treated John like an inferior, which just created an even bigger boundary between the two of them.

Then one day John couldn’t take it anymore. He snapped. John shouted and let out everything his emotions, his irks frustrations. All Sherlock did was sit there blankly maintaining that cool collective facade he always kept. With the way the corners of his mouth twitched it was pretty obvious that was actually amused by this. That only seemed to piss John off even more. He picked up his bag and stormed out of the library.

Days went by and Sherlock kept coming even when John didn’t. Eventually, after his grades began to drop once more, John returned. This time he seemed more assertive and unwilling to take in Sherlock’s insults. He laid out his terms which Sherlock accepted and tried his best to follow.

Sherlock and John grew closer and closer as time went by. Sherlock learned which buttons not to push with John and John slowly learned that Sherlock couldn’t always read a situation well enough to understand how he should and shouldn’t be acting. But he was actually extremely smart, he just didn't care for the classed he was forced to take. He could also deduce and analyze the hell out of everything else; this is one of the things that fascinated John the most. He constantly found himself trying to do what Sherlock could do during class when his mind wandered off.

As time went on, they grew to become more than just tutor and mentee; they became friends, close friends; and as John soon learned, Sherlock’s only friend. They would spend time after school together; pick each other as partners for as many assignments as possible. Sometimes John would even go to Sherlock for dating advice; though he knew that Sherlock was terrible at the dating game he would be completely honest with him and tell it as it is, he was one of the only people who’d do that to him and John liked it.

John tried to introduce him to his rugby friends, which didn’t work out well. Their school’s team was one of the best and that title definitely got to their heads, none of them wanted a ‘low class freak’ to be part of the group as one of John’s mates told him. John was hurt and confused when he heard this. He didn’t say anything to defend him but he did begin to distance himself away from them a bit.

They continued their tutoring sessions both inside and outside of school. It was always them meeting somewhere or Sherlock going to John’s house. Sherlock never really spoke about his home life, but he knew that Sherlock had a brother from a yearbook he saw once and Sherlock added a monocle and Hitler ‘stache to the picture, so he believed it was safe to assume they didn’t have the greatest relationship.

Rumors began to crop up about Sherlock and John being much more than just friends. They were fully aware of this but they always turned them down (which Sherlock would do more humorously with better sass then John) and didn’t really let get to them. They both knew this wasn’t’ true.

It wasn’t until the first time that Sherlock was late since he really began to care for John, was there a _real_ problem about these rumors.

John checked the time on his phone; 3:34, he was over a half hour late. John considered calling him, but Sherlock wasn’t a big fan with talking on phones, and he doubt the librarians would appreciate it either. He should probably text him then.

Just as he was about to contact him, Sherlock came into view. John waved him over to the table.

Sherlock walked there slowly, almost uneasily. He sat at the table and left his bag next to his legs. Sherlock didn’t do his usual routine of sitting down, making some sort of deduction while taking off his scarf and then they’d begin; trying to get as much work done as they possibly could before they somehow changed the subject they were working with. There was something wrong. Sherlock remained looking down, casting a shadow over his face in the already badly lighten corner of the library. He didn’t say anything to John. He couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“Sherlock?” John asked bending over some to try and get Sherlock to look up. Sherlock wasn’t moving, he said nothing. “Sherlock” John repeated, cupping his chin and pulling it up so Sherlock would look at him finally.

John almost did a double take when he saw Sherlock’s face. There was a bluish purple bruise beginning to for around his eyes. There were scrapes along one side of face going from his forehead down to the curves of his cheekbone. They looked fresh too. Anger and confusion began to bubble up inside him. It was an infallible rage that was burning within.

Sherlock didn’t look disturbed, frightened, or really even hurt. He looked guilty and possibly vulnerable. “Who did this?” He demanded, doing his best to keep his cool. Sherlock maneuvered himself to be out of John’s hold. “Sherlock please, just tell me” John was remaining calm, but he was unsure how long that was going to last.

“It’s nothing John just drop it.” Sherlock mumbled bending over to take out his notebooks.

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It wasn’t something one drops that fast, this was serious. “Tell me" he repeated himself in a more commanding tone. He held Sherlock’s face in one hand, and placed another on the nape of his neck and eased him back up so that he could face John properly.

Sherlock winced in the dull pain. John was confused he wasn’t touching any of the wounds he had seen. Unless…John took a hold of Sherlock’s scarf and despite his protesting John undid the indigo blue scarf.

John very nearly dropped it when he saw what Sherlock had tried to hide. There were darkened red patches that were spaced out and looked like finger impressions around his neck. Was he almost strangled? They didn’t look too serious so maybe this assailant didn’t get too far with whatever he almost did. He felt Sherlock’s hand trembling when he tried to push John’s hand away.

If John thought he was angry then, he was definitely hot with fury now. “Sherlock tell me who this was.” He growled in a low voice.

Sherlock didn’t know what to do. John looked at him insistently, obviously expecting an answer. He felt his eyes stinging; he hoped that John couldn’t see it. A small lump was forming in his throat. Sherlock shook his head.

This just caused him to be even more frustrated. “Did you even fight back?” Sherlock’s silence served as his answer. “Why. Why didn’t you fight back? I know you could have” His voice was beginning to grow louder “Why are you protecting this asshole? Just tell me” His hand came down onto the table, causing Sherlock to flinch a little in surprise. One of the librarians shushed John, which quieted him down a little. “I swear it’ll stay between us. Just please, for me” He coaxed him a little more gently.

Sherlock opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself. Sherlock took a deep breath and began again “It-it wasn’t one person.” He started “You’re friends on the rugby team. They said they ‘didn’t want a faggot poisoning their team’.” As the story was told, Sherlock’s gaze was cast elsewhere, anywhere but at John. John’s fire in his eyes didn’t burnout upon hearing this, he was speechless, taken aback by this. What he supposed to do? “There you wanted to know. Are you happy?”

John didn’t respond at all. He picked up his own bag and left without a word to Sherlock.

John walked home lost in his own thoughts.

_‘Why didn’t he even fight back? Was it because of me? Did he think it would hurt me? Was he trying to protect me and not hurt my feelings? Sherlock isn’t even that caring, so why would he do that for me? I thought they were my friends. I have practice with these people in just a few hours…how am I supposed to face them?’_

He let these thoughts fester and eat at him. John analyzed the situation; he was easily able to pick out who must have done this to his friend. He made up his mind.

* * *

 

Sherlock and John hadn’t communicated at all since the afternoon at the library the day before. Sherlock sat in his usual seat for his first period chemistry class (which of course was his best and favorite class) that he also shared with John. After their friendship took off they became permanent lab partners.

Sherlock could feel all the eyes around him burning holes into his back. Sherlock hated being the center of attention but coming to school covered in bruises and scrapes how could people not talk about him. The curiosity was too heavy to not have it become a topic of conversation.

Sherlock immersed himself into a book, which couldn’t have care less for, to seem busier then he really was. A hush fell over the room, assuming that class was about to begin he looked up. He was taken aback by what was the true cause of the silence.

It was John. John looked as though he was in a fight. He had a black eye which matched Sherlock’s. Once John sat next to him, he was able to get a better look at him. The black eye must’ve been from last night. John’s split knuckles was also another give away that this happened last night. There were other stray bruises up his arms and his lip was also split open.

Sherlock gathered what must have happened. John fought them for him. _For him._ Sherlock had faced so much ridicule and cruelness from his peers and no one had ever stood up for him, it never really bothered him. But it was the gesture that counted. “John” Sherlock’s voice trailed off. His hand crept up and touched John’s injury, “I-“

John cut him off “Don’t. It doesn’t matter; they had it coming to them anyways. If anything I’m the one who should be sorry.” John reached up and touched Sherlock’s own hurt “Besides now we’re matching, see?”

A cruel snicker followed by whispers came from behind. They turned around shooting them dirty looks; a few of John’s team mates were the source of it. “Just wait” Sherlock whispered as they went back to face the front of the room.

Around 20 minutes into their newest experiment a sharp loud whistling erupted from behind them. It was the player’s lab group. The whistle became louder and louder almost like shrieking until it stopped. There was silence but then suddenly a loud popping followed by the sounds of several students yelling and broken glass.

“Funny how easy those labels can be switched” Sherlock muttered not even bothering to see what was happening behind him.

These were one of the many times John remembered why he loved Sherlock so much. John smiles to himself at this thought and they continue their experiment.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at the end of an IT exam so I'm not sure how great it is. Please feel free to give feedback below, anything will be highly appreciated.


End file.
